


To Know Ourselves

by Rosage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: For the eldest, there is much it is hard to admit.





	

Ryoma doesn’t know how much time has passed since they wiped each other down. His once-thundering heart thumps lightly, and the words they’ve been whispering slip through cracks in his memory. The evening remains in snatches—a mask falling to the floor, elbows knocking together, _are you all right? Is this…?_

“Do you need to sleep?”

“Can’t,” Ryoma says. Saizo grunts his agreement.

Their conversations usually have to be focused. Flitting from topic to topic was one of Ryoma’s childhood dreams, even if he didn’t picture their fingers entwined under sweat-soaked sheets. It brings him back to the days when he could run in the grass just for the sake of it, checking over his shoulder that his new ninja was keeping up. When an early bedtime felt like a crushing blow instead of an opportunity. 

“Mother sang such haunting lullabies compared to mo…my first mother,” Ryoma says. “They were more like Azura’s songs, now that I think of it.” He shifts against the bedding and coughs. “Of course, I only overheard Mother in Sakura’s room.”

“Of course.”   

“What kind of songs did your mother sing?”

“The people of Igasato do not make unnecessary noise. When it’s time for children to sleep, they sleep. If not, there are herbs to force the state.”

For a somber moment Ryoma ponders that. Then Saizo’s calluses rub against his, and a heady scent lifts the topic from his mind. He is about to roll toward Saizo when Saizo continues. “Kaze might have needed Ma—Mother to tell a story once or twice.”

“What kind of stories?” 

“I paid no attention.”

It’s just as well that the darkness hides Ryoma’s smile. “Of course.”

“That said, lore is part of any ninja’s training. We must know the history behind those we are to serve, and the mistakes made by ninja before us.”

“Share one.” 

Saizo remains silent for long enough that Ryoma thinks he’s refusing. It’s almost a relief; he tossed out the suggestion without considering that Saizo might still take his word as law. When Saizo speaks, it’s in a careful monotone.

“Long ago, a ninja from a humble village was taken with great insolence. They obtained their lord’s favor, then used it to angle for more. They shared his food, his weapons, his clothes…” Saizo sucks in a breath. “They shared his bed.”

Palms that felt warm and slick become sticky. “What happened to them?”

“The Dawn Dragon heard of this indecency and fell into a rage. As punishment, he struck the ninja’s clan with a great bolt of lightning. Only a crater deep in the mountains remains.”

As they’ve talked, Ryoma has cooled down from searing heat to pleasant warmth. Now he goes cold. “What else do we know?”

“That’s the whole story. Any legacy the ninja might have left was blotted out by their mistake.” 

Numbness has long set in Ryoma’s mind, foggier than the calm after meditation, and his attempts to untangle his own threads of lore collapse. Sore knuckles make him realize how tightly they’re gripping each other’s hands. His limbs ache as he rolls over to wrap an arm around Saizo.

“The Dawn Dragon would never.”

“As you say,” Saizo murmurs. But he lies stiff, and when Ryoma tucks against his neck, Saizo’s racing pulse is his only lullaby.


End file.
